


To be Necesarry

by geoffox



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: AU, Consensual Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fake AH Crew, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not quite a guy Jon Risinger, Rare Pair, Trans Jon, Trans Jon Risinger, a rare risingwood appears, but mainly emotions, emotional smut, i am sin, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 23:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10347372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geoffox/pseuds/geoffox
Summary: Ryan holds him against the wall and practically drips feelings onto Jon. Ryan needs him. Jon wants to help. It's just not always easy on the heart. Or the eyes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i am sin. but oh well. i wrote this to prove a point so here i am. i've only looked over it a couple times and i don't have a beta so any mistakes are mine.
> 
> also jon is trans in this gta au. i write trans characters because i need to vent since im trans.
> 
> also also this is kinda practice for a more serious fic that i may or may not post at a later date. idk.
> 
>  
> 
> help

Jon knows when Ryan pushes him against the wall that he’s far gone. Ryan isn’t even changed yet, clothes still reeking of violence and bloodshed. 

But he needs this. Jon knows he needs it so he lets himself be pressed against the wall, Ryan’s hand on his throat. Not choking, just there. He hasn’t said anything but the Vagabond’s other hand is wandering up and down Jon’s sides, finding comfort among the curves of Jon’s waist.

Ryan’s shaking against him and Jon knows something is very wrong. 

 

“Ry—” he starts, but then the hand on his throat  _ does _ tighten, and Ryan’s mouth is by his ear, hushing him, voice crackly and hoarse. Both his hands abruptly go to Jon’s hips and he’s suddenly lifting Jon up, hands sliding down his legs as he hitches them around his waist. 

Jon takes a breath, just before Ryan presses their lips together, suddenly so sweet and gentle. His legs automatically tighten around Ryan’s waist and he can  _ feel  _ the man’s tense shaking against his thighs. He’s carried then, almost drunkenly, hands wrapped under his legs, until he can feel the hard surface of the kitchen counter under him. Ryan kisses him again and Jon tries to reciprocate because, Ryan  _ needs  _ this and— _ god,  _ he needs it too but Ryan— _ needs _ —it. He needs to feel the soft press of skin on skin and the comfort of knowing that someone in the great wide world knows both sides of him and loves him for it anyway.

 

“Rya—” Jon tries again when they break the kiss, but Ryan presses his teeth against the curve of his face and Jon can feel vibrations as Ryan hums against his jaw that takes his words away.

_ “Off,”  _ it’s Ryan’s first real word since he barged in and held Jon against the wall like a toddler holds a safety blanket. Now that Jon’s supported on the kitchen counter he pulls up Jon’s loose shirt, revealing Jon’s dark binder against his pale skin.

“ _ Off,”  _ he repeats, gliding his fingers up Jon’s ticklish sides and pulling his shirt off. He presses his fingers against the binder and Jon  _ wants  _ to give him everything but today’s just not his day.

“Can we leave it on?” He asks, leaning against Ryan as he presses his lips against his jaw again, then dips lower. Ryan hums in answer against a particularly sensitive part of his neck and Jon whimpers. He winds his arms around Ryan’s neck as the Vagabond continues making marks on his collarbone. Ryan takes off his jacket at the same time, muscles flexing as he pulls it away and drops it on the floor. 

 

“ _ Off,”  _ Ryan says a third time, backing up just enough to yank Jon’s pants down. “I need—”

“I know,” Jon murmured, lifting his hips so that his pants could be worked down properly. “I know.”

 

When he’s just in his boxers and binder, Ryan dips down between Jon’s legs and eyes him like he’s a treasure. His long fingers explore the hem of Jon’s boxers like he’s never been there before. 

“ _ Off,”  _ he mutters, one last time, and Jon helps pull off his boxers. When they’re off, Ryan’s face is frustratingly close to Jon’s heat, but he doesn’t dare move because something in the air might change and Ryan  _ needs  _ this.

 

Ryan sneaks his warm fingers up to cup against Jon and the reporter sighs, low and soft. Curious fingers push against and then inside him until he’s squirming ever so slightly, wiggling his hips to try and get them deeper. He’s already wet, probably started getting wet when Ryan first put his hands on his throat, but the Vagabond still works him till he’s whining and wanting. It’s only then that Ryan stands up, curling his fingers inside Jon one last time before he withdraws them, sticky and slippery. 

Their eyes meet and Ryan’s blue irises are piercing.

 

Ryan unbuttons his pants and pulls them down just enough to free himself. He wraps one hand around Jon’s back, holding him close as he uses his other hand to line himself up.

 

In one swift moment he presses inside Jon and they’re both groaning. Jon’s never gotten used to it. The feeling of being  _ full.  _ He’ll never get used to it and he loves it. He grinds his hips down once Ryan bottoms out, feeling the man shaking inside him.

 

“What’s wrong,” he whispers against his mouth, hands tight against Ryan’s shoulders as he starts to move.

Ryan makes a wordless sound, a whining whimper as he thrusts again. Jon sighs shakily.

“ _ Please _ tell me what’s wrong,” he murmurs, biting back groans and more sighs.

 

Ryan pushed into him hard and finally breaks.

 

“I need—” his voice cracks. “I need—” His cheeks are wet and Jon wipes away the rare few tears that drip down with his thumb. “Everyone got hurt today—it was bad—I need— _ I need— _ I can’t  _ lose—you _ —” Every few words is punctuated with a thrust that sends Jon shivers of pleasure up through his core and out his mouth with small, breathy gasps.  __

 

“I’m sorry,” Jon whispers. He doesn’t know what else to say. He’s not a formal member of the crew but he can relate to the feeling of sheer panic and horror that wells up in his chest every time he thinks of Ryan getting hurt. Even now the thought causes a cold feeling of ice to trail down his spine. Ryan is shaking against him harder than before now and Jon wants to take all his troubles away and burn them till they are nothing but ash.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I won’t leave,” Ryan’s going faster now. “I’m here,” he arches his back. “I’m—sorr—” Ryan captures his mouth in a kiss, hand on Jon’s back pressing them both together.

“I’m—” Jon lets go suddenly, twisting pressure in his gut too much. He clenches around Ryan and a moment later he can feel Ryan releasing, the man panting against his lips.

 

“Sorry—” Jon’s voice breaks as Ryan pulls out, leaving him feeling empty and sticky. Everything is suddenly too much. “Sorry I just—” Ryan’s kissing him as  _ he’s  _ the one crying now. The thought of Ryan getting injured—or worse—just too much to bear.

 

Ryan lifts Jon into his arms, carrying them to the bedroom proper. Jon’s bawling now, worried and anxious and sad. Ryan still stumbles like he’s drunk, like he’s still got his own mountains to climb, but they get there eventually. When they’re finally laying in the bed, Jon is curling up on himself, chest heaving as he struggles to breathe and sob at the same time.

 

“Hey—” Ryan shakes his shoulder, creeps close and kisses him on the forehead, then on the temple, then right at his hairline. “Hey—”

 

“I won’t go if you don’t,” he whispers to Jon. “You’re my favorite and I need you.”  

 Jon chokes a laugh, pressing his hands against Ryan’s chest. “Okay,” he pauses, “I won’t go if you don’t,” he repeats back to him. “You’re my favorite and I  _ need  _ you.”

Ryan kisses him one more time. They’re both tired and worked up and halfway past crazy, but Jon won’t go if Ryan doesn’t, so they’re stuck with each other, and that’s how they need it.

**Author's Note:**

> hey if you liked it why not follow me or give me more prompts/shit on my tumblr?
> 
> >>> geoffles-waffles <<< look me up bro im not famous (good night)


End file.
